Friday, April 27, 2012

Expletive, Expletive!

I am a closeted potty mouth. As in when I am in an enclosed space surrounded by moronic motorists, the words really start flying. Or if I am typing in cyberland I guess, but my kids can't read curse words yet so I think I am good.
In general I try to really watch the potty-mouthness though I admit it escapes on occasion. Like the "Dammit!" last night when a naked bootied post-bath girlie PEED on big brother's bed in the 2.5 seconds it took me to walk across the room for a diaper. And then she took said diaper back off in the 2.7 seconds it took me to strip big brother's sodden sheets and I had to chase her giggling self down to redress. The nakedness- I loathe it.
But what the hell people?? How is driving that hard? Put it in gear and depress gas pedal. When you must stop, depress brake. Turn signal on to change lanes or turn. Don't hit anything.
I almost die about 12 times a commute. Sometimes I must stop all the way in moving traffic to accommodate someone who is trying to get out of an exit only lane... or into a lane from an on-ramp... or who decided to just give up watching the road and wander their zillion-ton Denali into my very moving lane. Sometimes I must vear onto a shoulder or slam the gas pedal to the floor. And it pisses me off. every. time. An expletive is fired off. every. time. If I am sans-kids of course.
And I am at work today and sans-kids so the ride home could get a little colorful if these damn morons don't get their driving shizz together!
And then I'll have to rinse my mouth out with soap.

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